


Love in The Time of Zombies

by Laure001



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:23:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6461143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laure001/pseuds/Laure001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title says it all!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in The Time of Zombies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frangipani Flower](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Frangipani+Flower).



> This is an AU season 5 fic. The terrorist attack on the Berlin station never happened, instead... well, it's in the title. (This fic does not happen in the same universe as my other story "The One with Brody". But there are similarities.)
> 
> This story was born from a bet between Frangipani Flower and myself - Frangipani Flower wrote many fics here, and in particular the wonderful "In for a Marathon, not for a short distance." To be exact, she stated it more like a challenge and proposed we'd swap our writing strengths. She would try a story with a lot of dialogues and a "Dear Reader" narrative angle, and I would try to write a story with... sex.  
> This challenge was a lot of fun, we interacted often and commented on each other stories, but I think it was much, much easier for Frangipani than for me. (Go check her fic, it's called: "Nine Hours." And it has eight chapters! And it's great!).
> 
> So here is my story, with - a little sex. Not too much. Hey, it's a process, ok? Step by step.

\- Three!

Quinn’s voice, calm and resolute, around the corner. Carrie was running toward the wooden door. Three more bullets left.

A detonation.

\- Two! 

Another. 

\- One! 

\- Fuck! Hold the fort! she cried, and at last she got to the door – slammed it closed – well, tried, because of course at that precise moment a fucking zombie stumbled his way through – smelled her, began to growl, fuck, fuck, Carrie muttered, searching frantically for her ZKnife© – her hand was slightly trembling, she was so tired – and SCHLAK - between the eyes – another detonation – Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

\- Quinn! Get out of there!

Carrie pulled the zombie out of the way (he was wearing a grey jacket and a tie, she remembered it after because it was this zombie who messed up the plan, or maybe it was her incompetence) – and NOW she slammed the door shut, except not, because three new monsters were blocking it now – because of the grey jacket zombie, because she didn’t get rid of it quickly enough – one down (SCHLAK) – the two others were on her, but Carrie ignored the threat and tried to shut the damn door anyway because if she didn’t succeed now, then she would never – too late, too fucking late, another creature was already between the – forget the door, time to NOT die, the first zombie was grabbing her arm, SCHLAK! (but she missed the right spot), the second one was trying to – Carrie kicked him away, kicked the first one too, two steps back, ZKnife© ready, got the two of them easy, the door get the door except – five more now – FUCK! The door was lost, she stepped back again, looked at it with despair, zombies swarming, tears in her eyes, she had fucked it up, she began to run - back in this fucking tunnel where they’ve been forever and ever where everything was grey and the floor was slippery with blood and they had seen that ONE fucking exit, this little window of light above but now she had…

\- Quinn! (She yelled.) I lost the door! I lost the door! We have to climb right now! We…

He was running too, toward her, they met not far from the wall, near the spot where they thought they could climb, to try to reach the broken ladder eighty feet up, a ladder they hoped would not break and would get them to that opening three hundred feet up, of course a fall would be fatal, Quinn had his gun in hand (but no more bullets) – he was staring at the door – the open door, with the flow of zombies coming through – Carrie took his arm, tried to drag him toward the wall.

– We have to climb now!

\- No.

… he said, still with this fucking calm, six days stuck in this fucking underground labyrinth, no sun, no sky, no wind, food getting scarce, it was just growling and death, but Quinn was still efficient, competent (while she was going bonkers).

\- No, he repeated, and he took her hand and began to walk the other way, the way he came from, the way they came from initially, please no – 

\- No, Quinn we have to try…

\- It’s over. They’ll grab us. We’ll never make it.

\- No we have to…

\- Forget it. They’ll get us while we climb.

… and he began to walk fast, his hand was an iron grip, he was right, the zombies were already near the wall – if she had only got to that door in time, now the creatures were – I don’t know, a hundred, walking towards them with those eyes and those teeth and she yelled (FUCK FUCK FUCK!!) Quinn began to jog and she jogged alongside him – around the corner, and for God’s sake, they were back – in the main tunnel, this dreadful place (when they found a place to sleep she was having fucking nightmares about phantom trains on those tracks). The last three zombies Quinn killed (his last three bullets) were lying on the ground, but there were others, of course, maybe ten or twenty, scattered, not too responsive – of course they got more responsive when Quinn and Carrie began to run towards them ( _my fault, my fault_ , she kept thinking) but what Quinn needed right now was her to be clear headed, so she tried to focus.

\- Ok. Listen to me, Carrie, he said. We keep running, we don’t stop. (The creatures were shambling closer.) We push them away, we don’t kill them. Push and run. Ok?

And he demonstrated the concept with a blond, female, intense looking zombie, with still traces of make up on, and then push and run was what they did for the next thirty minutes, covering already familiar ground. It was more push and jog, really. “Don’t go too fast! You’ll tire early”, he ordered, and she followed his instructions to the letter – when you’re six months in in a zombie outbreak and six days in in a hellish, ghoulish, horrible zombie filled subterraneous labyrinth, you don’t play “independent thinker” Carrie, you shut up and you obey the guy who’s keeping you alive. They had to stop once – Quinn’s way was barred by a zombies crew of ten or twelve, he got out his military knife (not a ZKnife©, something much bigger) and began to hack – Carrie too, attacking them from behind, she got three (and felt very proud of herself) he got nine. By the way, you remember the Zombies rules, right?

The Zombie rules are:

\- Zombies are dead people who have risen and want to eat you alive,

\- If you’re bitten, you get Zombie Fever and you die and then you turn into a Zombie and you want to eat other people alive,

\- To kill a Zombie, you have to hit him in the brain (or he will, you know, eat you alive).

… And they began to run again, a little faster because the horde which was forming behind them had got closer, and soon to they were back to the abandoned station with the connection with the subway – back in hell. They stopped.

The station was overflowed. 

Carrie had trouble breathing, she leaned upon the wall, deep breaths, deep breaths, the horde was maybe three minutes behind, and before them the station, filled with hundreds of roaming zombies. Quinn was taking the situation in ( _what situation_ , she thought, _we’re fucked_ , but she shut up, hysterics wouldn’t help.)

\- Ok, he said. We go through.

That was crazy. Carrie tried to keep her calm – well, she tried to pretend. 

\- Quinn, I don’t think we can…

(The horde, getting nearer).

\- It’s the best choice.

\- What about there? she countered.

To the left. Maybe fifty zombies between them and the stairs, but fifty is better than – you know – a million?

(The horde. Nearer.)

\- No. We don’t know what we will find upstairs. If we’re stuck, we’re dead. In the northern tunnel – we know our way, we know what’s waiting for us. We just go straight ahead and try to get the cache.

The cache was where they had left the guns, the munitions and the food, three days ago. The idea was to go on a short reconnaissance and then come back. They were never able to.

\- Alright, he said. Ready? Push and run. We do not kill, killing is stopping, we stop, we die. Ok? We go through, all the way – till we get to the tunnel.

\- Quinn…

\- Go.

They went. It was – nightmarish – everything had been nightmarish, from the start – but this – faces and faces and faces, some still not decomposed; they could have been human, shit they _were_ human, passengers, stuck there during the outbreak, who had eaten each other alive (well, the zombies had eaten some of the passengers and they had turned and _then_ they had eaten the others alive) and all those faces hating them wanting to kill them wanting to eat to annihilate hungry hateful hands and teeth and Quinn never left her side (though she was slower than him) it got worse and worse the crowd was pressing closer she was getting slower and they made it, they were on the other side – but Carrie was lost in the shuffle, losing her mind she had lost Quinn too and at the last moment he grabbed her arm.

\- Forget it! We won’t make it there!

He dragged her left – it was not the right way – but the pressure was weakening, and suddenly they were running on relatively open ground – only a few dozen creatures. Carrie looked around and she saw it, behind them on the right – the entrance of the northern tunnel, completely blocked, the way to the cache – they were in another tunnel, going west, the wrong way, they looked at each other, but another horde was already forming behind them…

\- Go!

Westward. And again – jog and push – and kill, this time. Because even if this tunnel was not overflowed, the density was enough that they needed to – run - push –SCHLAK – run - push – SCHLAK – for hours – exhaustion was not even an appropriate word for the state they were in, Carrie was feeling Quinn’s weakening besides her, and if _he_ was weakening – they needed a place to rest, a place to hole up, but there was nothing, run, kill, push, westward – and then she saw it.

\- There!

Up there, in the brown brick wall, there was a sort of – air vent maybe? An opening? Just out of their reach, but also out of the zombies reach.

\- Here! Quinn! Climb!

He looked.

\- We cannot… both fit in…

\- Yeah! We can!

Carrie dragged him to the wall and she began to climb and Quinn helped her, pushing her up, then he had to let her go because of course the zombies had rounded up, and she heard him fight below (and SCHLAK and SCHLAK) and grunt (he was so tired) she found a sort of rusted metal handle (so humans were supposed to go in there) she grabbed it and pulled herself upwards; he was still fighting under her feet God if he was bitten now – if he was killed now – pulling harder, she was in, in this tiny passageway, going deep in the wall with only darkness at the end.

\- Quinn! Grab my hands!

He couldn’t, not at first, he had to kill his assailants but of course the noise and the fight was attracting more; finally he turned and jumped and she caught him and some zombies got grabby but he kicked and climbed; at last he was in, falling on her, Carrie lied down (no other choice) face up and crawled backwards to give him space but her head soon hit the fucking end of that fucking brick tube. She couldn’t go farther, he had to crawl on her, it was pitch black, he was lying on her trying to get his feet out of the opening, she whispered “you’re too fat”, he stifled a dry laugh, and after that they stayed immobile for a while.

It took her five minutes to catch her breath. To realize that they were safe. Alive. “Are you hurt?” she asked, “No” he answered shortly, near her cheek, he was so exhausted, she thought she had never saw him so drained, she heard him breathe, in and out, trying to calm down, she could feel his heart beating pretty fast and minutes passed again, yes, they were safe, the horde that had been following them would dissipate slowly with them out of view (that’s why it was so important for them to hide their feet), the adrenaline was winding down – but without the running and the struggle of surviving, Carrie was left with nothing but misery. 

She felt sick (death, death all around). They were in a tomb, maybe they were already dead, and this was a zombie nightmare, she and Quinn stumbling together in the halls and this was their common dream, where their bodies were alive and touching, everywhere, chest against chest, arms thighs hearts beating together, his breath on her neck and she suddenly tightened her involuntary embrace on him, grateful for his strength, for the fact that he was here, near her. 

“Quinn”, she whispered, her voice broken, to reassure herself that he was real, then she added “Don’t die”, it didn’t make any sense but she did not care, he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t reacting, at least in appearance, but his heart was beating fast again, and his chin grated on her neck (a six days stubble), she felt the weight of his legs and his left hand somewhere in the vicinity of her belly, he tried to move, to do what she didn’t know (maybe get away) but he couldn’t, they were stuck in this claustrophobic space, and his movement made it worse because suddenly parts of his body were sliding (more like grinding) on her, his side moving up her hip and his chest pushing on her breasts and suddenly she needed more (of him), (of life), so she kissed – what she could, what was there, his neck, then she couldn’t stop, like his skin was a drug, it was desperate need, she got part of his jaw and then lower, near the collarbone, he tried to rearrange again, to get off her or to get nearer she had no idea, anyway it didn’t amount to much except more grinding really. “Carrie”, he murmured, was it a warning or a – she didn’t know, but he was becoming hard on her thighs and she tried to move her head, trying to get to his lips. He was trying too, except they couldn’t, but the sort of twist they had attempted had messed up with her shirt (pulling it up) so now part of her stomach and her bra was exposed, her naked skin rubbing on his shirt and his jeans and his belt – again, didn’t help, especially when he succeeded to move his left hand upward – and it landed on her ribcage, then on her breasts - he buried his face in her hair, “Carrie don’t” – “Please”, she whispered, and he had a sort of frantic movement and suddenly the angle was better and he did catch her lips – kind of – the side of her lips, maybe, and he tried and she tried and the kiss was – almost there – they kind of missed each other so he moved again, she was fighting desperately to get her hands down, to get to his belt, and there was no “Carrie don’t” anymore, believe me, his left hand had left her breasts, trying to get to her pants, fumbling with the buttons of her jeans, she kind of jerked under his touch and the angle changed again and suddenly – access, so they were kissing, short feverish clumsy kisses while their hands were still rummaging downstairs and suddenly access there too – and he entered her, without warning, without a word, she arched, clutching his back – and then they stopped moving, totally.

His forehead was touching her – she had shut her eyes, not that it changed anything in the dark – and it was – she never had been this close to anyone ever, she thought – not mentally close, in fact she had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, he was a stranger in the dark, his face invisible – but – physically close. Every part of their bodies touching, pressing on each other – legs and bodies and flesh everywhere and he in her, the final touch. She moved her hands as she could to hold him even tighter; they were still not moving (well not in the hips area anyway), he began to kiss her again, as he could (no range), cheeks and lips and face, “Look at me”, he whispered, and Carrie had a strangled laugh, because – how? – but she still opened her eyes, and they looked at each other or more exactly they just stared in the dark; he began to move; she tried to move her hips too, tried to follow his rhythm but honestly, there was no space for movement, the stone was pressing on them everywhere – he had a frustrated groan – she arched again trying to – and then they had a little more room, and his left hand was under her bra, fondling her nipples, caressing her skin and they could stir (just a little) (he succeeded to move less than an inch – horizontally) (in and out) (so frustrating but at the same time so), the closeness, their breaths mingling, they had stopped kissing and their faces were touching, and when she came her nails dug in his hair and honestly, next thing she remembered, it was morning.

She was alone, daylight filtering through the unattainable overtures at the top of this gargantuan tunnel, an alternate world for giants, where humans who dared enter were sentenced to oblivion. But now she was able to see where she was – their hole was a conduct made of brick, and at the end, the stones were new (or at least newer) – it had been walled, recently. Carrie touched the stones to see if they would give way – she struck them – but, surprise surprise, stones and cement do not yield easily to the naked hand. 

\- Carrie! (Quinn’s voice, somewhere below.) Coast clear! Let’s go!

She checked her military bag – (Zknife©, ZBiteSaver©, medical kit, her totally useless phone who had now been out of battery for days). They still had some water - she was hungry though – but not too much, they had eaten yesterday morning. OK. Time to rock and roll.

She climbed down; no zombies around, Quinn was surveying the zone, he seemed exactly the same, like nothing had happened – and honestly she was not in the mood to get sentimental either ( _Let’s just get the fuck out of there_ , she thought, _just out, OUT, please._ ) (She’d consider the situation in the light of day, in the real light, outside).

Quinn turned to her.

\- I’m thinking about our options.

\- Which are?

\- We could double back and try to get back to the northern tunnel. To the cache. Or, he continued, we could go on west, and hope this tunnel ends one day – preferably before we starve…

\- It should end soon, Carrie answered.

\- Yeah?

\- Yes. 

She tried to remember the map of the city, how the regional trains intersected with the subway – she didn’t memorized it or anything, but she did look more than once, and she had an excellent visual memory. Yeah, they should reach the surface soon, and also…

\- This doesn’t go full west, she explained. More like northwest, and it shouldn’t stray too far from the northbound mainline at first, which means… If we’re lucky, there might be maintenance tunnels connecting both.

\- Ok. (Quinn nodded.) Let’s go west.

Instead of run and push, it was walk and not a lot of pushing. Zombies were scarce; Carrie kept an eye for maintenance tunnels – there were none, but the walled air vents appeared regularly, every hour or so, and she could have sworn that they were getting a little bigger. Hours passed, they were still walking without much happening, which was good but also a little dangerous, because Carrie’s thoughts began to wander – about what happened the previous night (so much for waiting for the light of day to get sentimental). Quinn still hadn’t mentioned any of it, he was acting as if those moments didn’t even existed – but then, so did she. They were still walking, she cast a few discreet looks at him, wondering if behind this stern exterior his mind was wandering too, and she had her answer when they finally stopped – there was a crossing and another tunnel (going eastward), huge brick pillars, maybe the remnants of an abandoned station, the place was strangely beautiful, with the daylight filtering from far above, Carrie leaned against one of those colossal yellowish brick columns, and Quinn didn’t talk, didn’t comment, he just looked around, turned, and began to kiss her.

Bricks and light and the tunnels and the walking dead moving around, and both of them kissing in the midst of the labyrinth – desperately, passionately – it was madness – zombies could show any time – but Carrie was already lifting his shirt and he was already zipping down her pants, each second counted, he had his hand in her panties (still kissing) and a finger inside her and she moaned and he pushed her against the bricks and she had her hands on his chest then in his pants and he was rubbing her everywhere and she was too and they were both breathless and of course that’s the time zombies showed – six fucking of them, attacking, and before Carrie could even figure what was happening Quinn had already his knife, muttering “fuck fuck fuck” (SHLACK, one zombie down, SHLACK, two zombies down) but three of them were on Carrie who had her fucking pants down (can you imagine how ridiculous it would be, people finding zombie Carrie Mathison roaming the halls with her jeans down) so she slid down on the ground “fuck fuck fuck” to kick them away, which gave her time to find her knife, here it was, she killed the first one as he kind of leaped on her (Zombies don’t leap? Yeah, well, you weren’t there) but she missed the second, the knife got stuck in the monster’s vertebrae “fuck fuck fuck”, Quinn had killed the third one, Carrie pushed her monster away, zipped her pants back (for fuck sake!), leaped (her turn!) grappled the thing and got her knife back and _then_ she killed him the right way, ok, Quinn had taken care of the rest - “I suck at this”, she muttered, but other creatures from the eastern tunnel were already on their way so Quinn took Carrie’s hand and they began to run, west, the tunnel was now sloping down, getting darker and darker, and soon it was pitch black – for God’s sake.

Pitch black, in a tunnel, with zombies. Come the fuck on. 

\- Don’t let go of my hand, he whispered.

Believe me, she had no intention to.

They were walking slowly (“Let’s follow the wall”, she breathed), so they did, still holding hands, she was touching the stone with her left fingers; they were advancing slowly, carefully, listening – their sense of hearing on overdrive - everything seemed so real, so damn present, the air in-between them, the smells, the noise of little animals, pebbles and bones were rolling and cracking under their feet, they kept marching, no light anywhere, maybe it will be like that till the end, Carrie thought, absolute blackness and the zombies will come and we will just hear them and it will be the end, she was on the verge of losing it, the only thing anchoring her was his hand, the only thing that stopped her from running away screaming and then she heard IT standing up, just behind Quinn, who didn’t even have to turn around, the creature was already opening her mouth to bite Quinn’s neck Carrie grabbed it and pushed it down and began to stomp on its head – with her shoes (Doc Martens, official shoe makers of the zombie apocalypse) - tramping and screaming till the thing’s brain exploded, and then she kept stomping – Quinn grabbed her from behind – holding her by the waist, she stopped, and he whispered – “Listen… We have to listen… If there was one there may be others…” so she stopped – they kept perfectly silent, he still holding her, then a minute passed and he murmured “Thank you”, she was crying silently, he began to kiss her again – on the back of her neck, but – let’s not make the same mistake twice. 

So, marching on. Still westward. Hours passed before the ground began to rise again, and at last the warm but meagre light of the setting sun appeared above the inaccessible openings – when they spotted another air vent the night was already beginning to fall, everything was turning grey, they climbed, and there was no hesitation or pause this time they had sex right away, as soon as he crawled on her they began to kiss and their hands were instantly busy – maybe the conduct was indeed a little larger, or maybe their desperation was stronger, because she had him undressed (where it counted) right away, she put her hand in his pants and grabbed him, he has his mouth all over her nipples – sadly he couldn’t get lower without getting halfway out of that stupid vent (and that would have been extremely dangerous) (but maybe worth it), he began to bite her a little, a strange sexual symbolic choice in a zombie-filled environment, so she squeezed him harder (down there) her other hand scratching his back – she understood the game – they were roleplaying, in a way, transforming death into – he climbed up again, to kiss her, so she got revenge and it was her turn to bite him (lips, jaw, neck), he muttered something (not nice, probably, but she didn’t catch it), her hand left him and went to grab the back of his neck again to make him kiss her (that would teach him) – and he seized the opportunity and penetrated her at once, like the previous night, but unlike the previous night they didn’t stay perfectly still, gazing romantically in the darkness, they were at it right away – “at it” was, again, severely limited by the conditions they were in, she was trying to get her knees up (but couldn’t do much), and this was – incredible – the squeezing and the limited space and the forced closeness – his thrusts were limited too, so he finally added his hand down there to rub her (pressure on them everywhere) and this time he came first, his shivering and moans drove her crazy because it was the first time she ever saw (heard) him lose control, she followed almost instantly and honestly, next thing she remembered, it was morning.

Light was filtering from the faraway ceiling. 

She was alone. She instantly went to check the bottom of the vent, but it also had been walled, and like the previous ones, the stones had no intention of yielding.

\- Hey, Quinn said, when she joined him downstairs.

It felt a little like they were living in a duplex. The upper level was a small mezzanine where they had sex, the lower level a huge living room with zombies and no seats.

\- There is a maintenance tunnel a little farther, and it’s going right, he explained. 

She frowned.

\- Really?

\- Ten minutes from here. I went to check when you were still sleeping. I think I should try to go for it – see if it connects with the northern tunnel – if it does I’ll be back in a few hours, with the munitions and the food.

\- Not alone.

\- Carrie, you’ll just slow me down.

It was true, but it still hurt – not that she’s so bad as killing zombies, but the idea that she was endangering him – she knew, but to hear it was –

\- I am sorry, she said, in a low voice. 

\- For what?

\- It’s my fault if we didn’t make it to the ladder. Because I couldn’t hold the door.

He shrugged.

\- There’s a universe where you did hold that door. We made it to the ladder, it fell down and we both died. We were desperate, but honestly – with a little perspective – I think climbing all that way up was a very, very bad idea.

Carrie couldn’t believe how relieved she felt. She smiled at him – a huge beaming smile – and for a moment he just stared at her, transfixed, and she wondered again what he was thinking, about… you know. He was a locked door, she thought, she needed the key to see what was behind, maybe she had it (well, she had _a_ key) yesterday night when he lost control, she had a glimpse of what was hidden, but not much – and she needed to see more. 

But now that was not the time to go Quinn’s soul searching. They walked to another air vent, a little larger, he helped her back up, grabbed his bag, and left. 

Assuring that he would be back in three to six hours.

Three to six hours can feel like an eternity. When you have no way to measure time, when thousands of killer creatures hover behind you, where the only other human being on earth (not true, but it was feeling that way) had vanished, swearing that he was coming back… but would he? 

Carrie tried to sleep, and couldn’t – thoughts were competing in her head, there was a streak about Frannie, who was safe with Maggie in the US where the outbreaks had mostly been contained (they were a week ago, anyway), there was a streak about the world (A few days ago, it was just a zombie outbreak, but what about now? Maybe now it was a full blown zombie apocalypse) (Maybe the civilization has ended while they were struggling down here). And there were two streaks of thought about Quinn, the first was, of course (Will he come back, what if he doesn’t come back, what if after six hours she goes to look for him and he’s turned in one of them?), the second one was – you could sum it up by (What?) (What the hell?) (What had just happened between them?) (Was it just a zombie-related one time thing) (Well, two/three times thing) (Or what?).

Carrie laid there, staring at the brick ceiling (imagining Quinn on top of her, the weight of him in the darkness). After Islamabad, he kissed her and left – but there was more unsaid, much more. And two years later he saved her life after finding her name on a kill list. He was busy trying to convince her to go into hiding when the zombie outbreak happened – Allison Carr was one of the first victim, eaten alive in the streets of Berlin, and when the CIA went through Allison’s things they discovered she was a mole (unrelated to the Zombie thing). Carrie was out of danger – but then Saul asked her to go meet a contact from her Abu-Nazir/Amaretto days, someone who might have something to do with the undead epidemic. 

Quinn was sent to protect her. Or maybe Quinn had strong armed Saul into sending him too – Carrie didn’t pay attention to details at the time – but now she wondered - it didn’t seem like a detail anymore, it seemed like – one of those keys she was looking for – somewhere there was a set of keys, about Quinn, and she wanted to try them, one by one – anyway, Saul had sent them both to the meet, the contact never showed up and a bit of bad luck and a subway floor caving later they were stuck in this lethal Alice through the fucking looking glass underworld.

Three to six hours. Three hours were long gone, right? Or maybe four. Or five. Or maybe only two? It was hard to figure with only grey daylight sipping through – grey February light, grey February days. Somewhere. The outer world seemed difficult to imagine. Maybe it never existed. 

Maybe it was only her and Quinn and death (and sex), since the beginning of time.

Carrie still couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking of Quinn. Which – of course she was thinking of him – the guy was trying to find munitions and food for them of course she _should_ think about him but it was not – exactly – unconscious elements were stirring in her, expectations, hopes, fears redeploying, new mental landscapes being created. She couldn’t describe the process, she just knew that each hour which passed and he didn’t come back was a step being taken (she wanted to be out, with him, she wanted to see him in the light of day, to be with him in the light of day, and then)…

The light of day was declining. 

Carrie sat up, panicked (more exactly, she tried to sit up but couldn’t because she was in a fucking coffin). Yes, the greys were getting greyer.

Quinn had left in the morning. Let’s say she had woken up two hour after dawn – and now it was dusk – sure February days were short, but still, it meant more than six hours had gone by, and he was not back – oh my God he was not back.

Panic settled instantly. And with panic, the horrible uncertainty of her next actions, because if she knew what to do to help him then she would just fucking do it, but what _was_ the right decision? Wait, or go find him? Because if she didn’t go and Quinn needed her help… But if she did go and he was hurrying back and she got him in trouble and then he got killed… She could climb down and take a few steps in the maintenance tunnel and call him – but the fact was, she was not sure she could climb back without him and if zombies arrived and she got eaten and he found her dead on the floor and ok, stop, she had to decide, she’d wait two more hours, she thought, till the night had really set in, and if he was not back then NO you know what FUCK IT she was going NOW, she checked the contents of her bag frenetically (always checking the bag before taking any action was official procedure since the outbreak), she got ready to jump and of course that’s when Quinn came back, running in long elegant strides, a bag on his shoulder, Carrie helped him climb and two heartbeats later he was in, he sat on the edge of the vent so she could crouch near him, he was perfectly calm and composed, not even out of breath.

\- Ok, so, I couldn’t take everything, he explained, the northern tunnel’s swarming with them – going west was the right decision, believe me. But I got ammunition – and here, have a protein bar… They are a little dry, but…

She was staring at him – she couldn’t move, she couldn’t think.

\- Carrie, you should eat. Ok, so – this is your gun now. Loaded and ready to go – but use it sparingly – between the two of us, I’d say we have a hundred bullets left. Not bad, but if we meet a horde things could degenerate fast… Carrie, eat.

She didn’t. Instead, she took him in her arms, wordlessly, her heart pounding. Quinn didn’t know how to react at first - then he hugged her back, they didn’t move for a while, till he said:

\- Fucking eat, Carrie.

She laughed, dried out her tears. He was watching her as one would have watched an alien, a real big green one, with pointed ears.

\- Are you having a mental breakdown?

She laughed again.

\- Maybe. I was very near one, anyway. When I was waiting for you. And you weren’t coming back.

\- I told you six hours.

\- It was more.

He looked at the ceiling, saw the night.

\- Maybe. Did you worry?

\- What do you think?

\- Sorry. Eat.

\- Don’t I even get a kiss? 

He froze – absolutely, completely froze – staring again at her like she was a creature from outer space. Like the real Carrie had been kidnapped and replaced. He opened his mouth to speak – then changed his mind, put a hand on her neck, drew her close and kissed her, but thank God she had other instances to judge his talent from, because that was the colder, more fucking impersonal kiss ever received 

\- Eat, Carrie.

She rolled her eyes – took her protein bar, and ate. 

He was watching the tunnel. A feeble light was still filtering – maybe it was a beautiful night outside, with a full moon and stars.

\- You know, there were passageways down there, he explained.

\- Where?

\- In the maintenance tunnel – going up – I suppose.

They looked at each other.

\- You want to check them out now? she asked.

He clearly hesitated.

\- I know it’s night, he finally said, and the light is bad, but – the zombies, in the northern tunnel, they’re… agitated. Like with - tidal waves. If any of them followed me… it could start something. They could come this way.

\- So we’ve got no time to lose, Carrie concluded.

He hesitated again, before saying: 

\- Let’s go.

And five minutes later, Carrie got bitten.

She was alone checking one of the passageways – it was too dark, and she stumbled on a child corpse, a little girl, with blonde hair, so yes, she got distracted for a few seconds. She gawked at the corpse and she heard the zombie rise up behind her (it had been there all along, waiting), she began to turn around but before she could make sense of anything his teeth were in her arm ; she didn’t scream; she ripped the monster off and stabbed him, one strike, he fell and she was already opening her bag, hands trembling, taking the ZBiteSaver©, the round metal device bit right through her arm, ripping skin and flesh in a neat little sphere around the wound; taking off everything - blood spattered, pain unthinkable, still not screaming, taking the syringe and injecting the liquid (less that twenty-five seconds after the bite, they said, less than twenty-five seconds for it to have any chance of functioning at all), Carrie was losing blood and the shock and everything, she fell on her knees, trembling, she was going to die here, all alone; Quinn was checking the other maintenance tunnel; after a while he would look for her and find her – like this – she was seeing blinding lights (not the bite, a good old fashioned panic attack), she was still on her knees, breathe, breathe, long fucking breaths, five minutes passed, she sat down near the fallen zombie and the dead girl and finally was well enough to grab the other part of the medical kit, she disinfected the wound (for all the good it would do) and wrapped a bandage around it, then she stood up and walked back slowly to “their” tunnel. 

Quinn was already back, he was waiting for her there, cleaning his knife, and he saw her face before seeing the wound and turned pale as a sheet.

\- I’ve Zbited it, she said.

He was already unwrapping the bandage.

\- Looks fine, he said, but his face and his voice were betraying him. (His voice didn’t sound fine at all, nor his expression. Nothing fine, nowhere.) I think you got it all.

\- I don’t know, she stuttered (she was not crying, but she was terrified, she must have been even paler than he was, if possible), I don’t know, I couldn’t bite far because of the veins, I injected the antibiotics I think I made it before the twenty-five seconds mark but I…

\- Take another shot, he said, and he began to open his bag, feverishly, but she protested:

\- It’s won’t help it has to be taken in the first twenty-five seconds Quinn it won’t help. (But he was already searching his kit and she had to yell.) IT WON’T HELP A DOUBLE DOSE DOESN’T CHANGE ANYTHING QUINN KEEP YOUR FUCKING ANTIBIOTICS!

He stopped, looking at her, then he zipped his bag shut and he took her hand and began to walk briskly westwards, so yeah, they were both walking, without a word, God only knew what Quinn was thinking, maybe that if they found a way out if they found help she could be cured, there had been cases (like one on a thousand?) where they saved someone after the infection had settled in, it was not hopeless, scientists everywhere were working on different hypothesis, maybe they had made progress now (or, you know, civilization had fallen) but hours passed and the tunnel was not going anywhere and the moon and the stars had disappeared, it was getting dark and dangerous and Carrie was shaking like a leaf, she was cold, maybe it was the infection settling in or the HUGE dose of antibiotics or the shock or the fear but she stopped, smiled softly and said:

\- Do you mind if we go home and sleep for a while?

He just nodded – they walked to the next “mezzanine” – they climbed, yeah, the conduct was definitely bigger, they could even sit facing each other, and they did – she was not sleeping, she couldn’t, she was thinking about the infection spreading in her cells, she unwrapped her bandage and looked (Quinn was looking too). The wound was not pretty, why would it, a grown human being had teared her skin with his teeth, but it was nor turning blueish. The “zombie plague” made it turn blueish – it was not blueish.

Yet.

\- How long, do you think? 

He must have known what she meant – how long before it turns blue or it doesn’t? (Life or non-life, kind of like a twisted pregnancy test).

\- A few hours. I don’t know.

\- I’m so cold. That’s a bad sign, right? Like I’m turning into one of them already.

He laughed (it was dry), then he gave her his leather jacket (leather jacket, also a wise fashion choice in days of zombies) and then he searched into the bag for the military survival blanket.

\- No. It’s a good sign. The first sign of the infection is a very high fever. 

She knew that, of course she knew that; she was just dumb with terror and out of her wits. Ok so, big picture, she had to concentrate on her loved ones, think of the aftermath. It was a psychological trick they taught to fight the fear of impending death – concentrate on what you were leaving behind – her loved ones, shit, the list was not fucking long. Frannie. With Maggie. Who was a great, great mom, all her passive aggressiveness concentrated on Carrie, she never was like that with the girls. Her nieces – with their parents, and then there were Saul and Quinn (in no particular order) – the end. Saul was trying to find solutions to avoid the apocalypse; he was as safe as someone high up in the American government could be. And Quinn (how strange, to think of him as a loved one)… Quinn was right here, besides her.

\- Quinn, she said. You shouldn’t stay.

\- What?

\- You should go. Find another conduct to sleep in. And tomorrow you could come back and check that I haven’t… You could come back and check on me.

\- Yeah. That’s gonna happen.

\- Don’t be a fool. I could turn during the night and bite you.

\- For fuck sake. 

\- Quinn, please don’t be difficult. 

\- _I’m_ being difficult? 

She sighed. 

\- You would not be abandoning me, you would just leave me in quarantine for a few hours and…

He had closed his eyes, the back of his head reposing upon the brick wall.

\- No.

\- Fuck, Carrie muttered.

Ok. So of course he was being a dumbass about it – she began to think about alternatives. She had to find a way to get away from him – she just had to, at least for the night, in the morning she would definitely know (or she would be growling and looking for fresh brains). She wasn’t suicidal, she didn’t want to slit her throat or offer herself as zombie snack, but she had to find a way to protect him. She would wait till he was asleep. Then she could go and hole up in one of the other air vents, or maybe somewhere in the maintenance tunnel, and…

\- What the fuck are you thinking about, Carrie?

She almost jumped – oh his eyes were open all right, and he was watching her with an icy look.

\- What?

\- Don’t bullshit me. You are not going out there alone.

\- I was not…

\- Don’t you dare fucking lie.

\- Fuck, she mumbled again.

Ok, so now she would never be able to sneak past him – she had to fucking convince him – fuck, fuck and fuck – why was he making this so hard?

\- You are not helping, she said, anger beginning to rise. It’s just fucking common sense, you idiot! To avoid contamination!

He didn’t answer, just looking at her with a cold intensity she had never seen before (she was not sure if it was rage or exasperation or what). She explained:

\- If I live, we’ll see each other in the morning, no harm no foul, and if I die…

And suddenly he had his knife in hand, it was so sudden that she actually gasped – he had reached into his bag so fast that she – “I’m turning I’m turning into one of them right now and he’s going to kill me” – she thought, totally frozen; he grabbed her left hand and cut her skin with a swift gesture, she cried, more from surprise than from pain – he did the same thing on his left hand, and then took hers back and mingled both their blood, rubbing their wounds one against another – she could only stare, what the hell was he - and then neurons finally connected or something; she ripped her hand away, horrified

\- What the FUCK are you doing? Blood is a contaminant!

\- This way you’re not going to run away, he explained, very calmly.

Then he took back her hand and did it AGAIN while she was struggling desperately – _stop this stop this are you MAD stop this _– when he finally let her go she was feeling sick – she tried to talk, many times, before at last being able to utter:__

__\- Are you crazy? This is crazy. Are you crazy?_ _

__\- Just logical, he said, but his voice was – strange. (There was a short pause, and then his tone was back to steady.) If we’re both in the same situation, then you have no reason to take off or do whatever stupid demented thing you were intending to do._ _

__She couldn’t talk, again, feeling – God knew what. Anger and terrible crippling fear were part of it._ _

__\- You just… you just contaminated yourself, she seethed._ _

__\- Chances are, you’re not sick, and then I’m not either._ _

__\- And what if I am? she yelled. What if I die in the morning?_ _

__\- Do you think I would want to live then? he yelled back, and she looked at him, stunned, and she saw it I his eyes – the exact moment where he realized what he had just said._ _

__\- I mean… I didn’t mean…, he whispered. I don’t mean it... that way._ _

__\- What _do_ you mean? she asked, slowly. _ _

__There was a silence. Then he just shrugged. And Carrie’s mind went instantly on denial mode, there was a rational explanation, she could chalk it up on guilt or whatever (maybe he just meant that he was supposed to protect her and failed). So she clung to that idea for a while – it was simpler – but it was also – intensely disappointing – and she felt so damn sad – they had been together for years on end, on parallel courses, never really colliding - and now they were going to die, to dissolve in nothingness, without even -_ _

__Unless._ _

__\- Well, I can think of two interpretations, she began. Of what you just said._ _

__\- Oh my God, Carrie. Will you please let it go?_ _

__\- No. The first interpretation is that you take your responsibilities really seriously._ _

__\- Carrie please can you fucking just-_ _

__\- The other one..., she began._ _

__… and she had to stop, her chest was constricted, she was so damn terrified._ _

__\- Carrie, shut up. Please. Please shut up. Please._ _

__\- The other one, she repeated, ignoring him, is that you… love me. That you’re in love with me._ _

__He shook his head – with a mix of despair and disbelief._ _

__\- Really?_ _

__\- “Really” what?_ _

__\- Really, that’s your interpretation? You think you’re so damn clever?_ _

__\- Well, am I?_ _

__There was a new silence, longer this time. Then he chuckled – a pathetic little laugh._ _

__\- Your interpretation is that I’ve been in love with you for years._ _

__She hadn’t said that, but she didn’t comment, because his intonation was so strange. So bitter. He continued._ _

__\- And that I would do such a crazy thing as… what I just did… because…_ _

__He stopped there, shook his head again, before rubbing his temples, like he had the most horrible headache._ _

__\- Well, he finally said. Maybe._ _

__Carrie didn’t reply, so that was the key, she thought in a strange, dispassionate way – but her body was not dispassionate, she was trembling all over – like a part of her knew how momentous that discussion was, but her mind was struggling to catch up. She let time pass – she needed to acquaint herself with this new reality; she needed to integrate the truth she had just torn out of him – and time did pass, a few interminable minutes; he wasn’t looking at her, he hadn’t been for a while now, he was just staring at the tunnel, and she realized – he couldn’t – he couldn’t look at her, he had just offered her his heart on a platter, and now he was just waiting, for rejection, for silence – and there was this strange, amoral moment where she felt – absolute power. This man, with his head turned, staring at the humid dirty stones on the opposite wall as if they were alive, she had him, she was holding him in her hand, she could crush him if she wanted, as a whim, just for fun – a few cruel words would do the trick, or you know, just staying silent would, but she didn’t get this option, because he turned to her, and she was right, he was not hiding anything anymore, they were just both a few hours from death anyway, he looked at her, with a small, sad smile._ _

__\- So? he asked._ _

__There a silence, she was just staring back – considering, scrutinizing, this man – this man she didn’t know, that she never saw before – without armor, without – anything._ _

__\- So? he repeated. Do I have a chance with you? Ever?_ _

__\- Yes, she answered at once – without thinking, the emotion that submerged her was sudden, irresistible, all the twisted thoughts about absolute power forgotten, replaced by want – burning desire of – love, light, life – tenderness, trust, but yes, especially love – so absolute that she could almost drown in it – because it was what she needed, she suddenly realized, she was absolute herself, and he was too, God, they were so fucked up, both of them, in this same, crazy, fucked up _absolute_ way, so she repeated, her voice trembling:_ _

__\- Yes – yes - I mean… What do you think we’ve been doing? I – in the – in those – air vents – together…_ _

__\- I don’t know, Carrie, he said. (It was awful to hear – the hope and fear in his voice.) What have we been doing?_ _

__Suddenly she was in his arms – she didn’t know how she crossed the gap, not that it was that big to cross – and they were holding so tight, a rampart against despair and death, a potential for – everything – and everything was what she wanted, so she whispered:_ _

__\- Yes… I mean – what we did – yes you’ve got every chance with me –_ _

__It was not crystal clear, but believe me, he got it – he grabbed her shoulders, he began to kiss her, but she drew back instantly._ _

__\- No, Quinn, the chance of secondary infection…_ _

__\- What?_ _

__\- If you’re not infected, maybe this kiss will… and if you already are, the secondary infection will make it worse and…_ _

__He clutched her shoulders harder, just shy of hurting her._ _

__\- Carrie, I don’t c…_ _

__\- I do – I do – I’d be thinking about it… If we kiss or fuck I’ll be obsessing about it the whole time…_ _

__\- God, he whispered, catching his breath, after she had niched her head in his shoulder. Is “contrarian” your middle name? Give me your arm, he ordered._ _

__He unwrapped the bandage again, with a sort of tenderness that was a wonder to behold (yes, she didn’t know this man, she was discovering new facets every minute). The wound still didn’t look good, but it also didn’t look – blue. She took his hand, the one he had cut to mingle her blood with his, it didn’t look blue either, she kissed his palm, and then she kissed his wrist, again and again, (thinking about “absolutes” and what he was offering her), she felt his breath hitch and she knew it was because of the tenderness of it all – he was not used to this Carrie either – this Carrie was born with Frannie and with Jonas and he didn’t know her yet, they were in a path of mutual discovery – too bad that they were going to die soon anyway._ _

__\- No infection, he breathed. Are you satisfied? Can I fucking touch you now?_ _

__\- For shit sake, Quinn, you know better. At least wait till morning._ _

__Whenever morning was, if it was still morning somewhere, if the sun was still shining in some part of the world._ _

__\- Anyway, we are touching, she added, and she settled comfortably in his arms, and he held her, and they staid unmoving, she almost dozed off, minutes passed, before he muttered:_ _

__\- I wouldn’t blame you if you’d never want to have sex again. That was embarrassing._ _

__\- Yeah, she laughed, in his ear. It was pretty bad._ _

__\- I’m better than this. I mean… Just so you know. It’s an important information to have._ _

__\- It’s not your fault, I mean, it’s not our fault. We were stuck._ _

__\- I have more… range than that._ _

__\- You literally didn’t have any range. We couldn’t move._ _

__They laughed a little, again._ _

__\- I want you to know, Carrie, that I never had any complaints – the opposite – in normal circumstances, I’ve generally been more than acclaimed, I could show you letters of recommendation…_ _

__\- Oh yes. Please do. I want to read them. In fact, you should display them on your walls._ _

__\- I’ll get right on it._ _

__But the sex was not so bad, Carrie thought. Ok, sure, it was appallingly bad, but it was also – she couldn’t define it.__

Air, when she was choking.  


In the tunnel zombies were… screaming, they did that, sometimes, strangled horrible moans, like a demented song. She drew nearer – if it was even possible.

__\- We’re fucked, aren’t we? I mean, even if the infection doesn’t…_ _

__\- We’ll see. (That Quinn, with the focused, determined voice, she was familiar with.) We have munitions, food - we’re far from dead yet._ _

__\- Will you kill me, if I turn?_ _

__She could feel him rolling his eyes._ _

__\- You’re not gonna turn. And yes, I will kill you._ _

__\- Thank you._ _

__\- Just trying to get in your pants, Carrie. Well, back in._ _

__Then they slowly drifted out to sleep – except she woke up at least three times, shivering (still in his arms), dreaming that she had bit him, tearing his throat, right there and each time she screamed, thinking she was one of them, dead woman walking; he comforted her, stroking her neck and whispering in her ear, and she didn’t explain her nightmares because she thought he knew – in the dead of the night, in her semi unconscious state, she felt like they were connected, in the same dreamland, and maybe they were, because he was walking in the tunnels alone, no munitions left, no knife and Carrie appeared and she was… And he brutally woke up too and she was sleeping on his shoulder, still alive, not one of those things, but she muffled an anguished cry, so maybe she was in the tunnel too._ _

__And then it was morning. Somewhere. They must have been on the same clock because they woke up at the same time, she was not alone, she instantly checked her wound – looked worse, but no bluish hue, she must be safe, she thought, which meant he was safe too, of course now she might die of gangrene, Quinn had not even looked at his hand, he was staring “downstairs”, at the tunnel, and he ordered:_ _

__\- Go!_ _

__\- Wait! she cried. (He turned to her.) Quinn, she breathed. Look. Look. It’s open._ _

__He didn’t understand at first, so Carrie had to repeat:_ _

__\- It’s open. The conduct. It hasn’t been walled in._ _

__He looked, and yes – there was no wall at the end of the air vent, just a sort of rusty metallic gate, grey daylight was sipping through, Carrie dispatched it with a few good kicks – she was nearer – then they struggled for a few seconds to get the gate out of the way (Quinn threw it in the tunnel with what could be described as a petulant gesture); Carrie began to crawl prudently into the opening, of course Quinn protested (“I should be first”), (“I’ll be fine”, Carrie answered, “I think I’m…”) – she stopped talking, she advanced, just a little, ten feet at the utmost – (“I think I’m out”), she concluded, two steps, and – she was out._ _

__Here came the sun – a little pale, under the veil of grey – but still it was here, she heard Quinn standing up behind her, they were outside, in a huge empty field – no zombies in sight – well ok, it was not a field, they were in the middle of a huge railway network, dozens of rails crossing in an intricate network – no trains anywhere either. Far away, the place was gated with high metallic fences which didn’t look that hard to climb. Farther still, sounds of life – cars running on a highway, even children voices playing, carried in the wind – this was not the noise of a zombie apocalypse. This was the noise of civilization going on._ _

__\- They must have evacuated the zone, then secured it, Quinn commented._ _

__And even if there were a few zombies left with them behind those fences – they had guns, and munitions, and all the time in the world to get out. It was over, she realized – they were saved. It took a while to sink in - there was a tiny house on a little empty spot in the middle of the railways, surrounded by dead signalization lights. They walked to it, a yellow ribbon announced: “Contaminated Area Do Not Enter”, of course they did, Quinn kicked the door, they secured the place, guns in hand. Nobody was in, no zombies, they barricaded the door safely behind them, electricity was working, heat was working, hot water was working, there was food in the cupboards. Carrie began instantly to look for coffee and also started to boil water (for tea) (anything, anything hot) and somewhere Quinn declared:_ _

__\- The shower works!_ _

__\- God that’s the best news I’ve heard in my life, she answered. Take the first shift, I’m making coffee._ _

__He stayed a long time in that shower, and when it was her turn she understood why – there was dirt and dried blood and grime everywhere. In her hair. Under her nails. All over her skin, and her feet – you don’t want to know – anyway she scrubbed and she scrubbed and then she finally felt clean – cleaner than she ever was, maybe, she got out of the tiny bathroom, wrapped up in a towel, and Quinn was waiting for her._ _

__He was not waiting, he was waiting _for her_ , there was a nuance. He had found clothes somewhere – men clothes, he was leaning on the fridge, clearly impatient for her to get out, but he didn’t move when she did, he just watched her (she instantly went to check the coffee machine, I mean, priorities, right?) _ _

__He was weirdly silent – but they were both exhausted. She poured coffee for both of them, put a LOT of sugar in her mug, took a few sip, finally noticed the strange vibe and looked up._ _

__\- What?_ _

__\- Let me see your arm._ _

__He checked it – calmly – then smiled. A guarded smile, but a smile nevertheless._ _

__\- I think you’re fine, Carrie._ _

__She smiled back. Then he added:_ _

__\- Also, I’m wondering what the situation is. Now that we’re out._ _

__She stared at him for a while. Then she began to undress him slowly – taking off the new, clean clothes, his shirt, his trousers, everything; he unwrapped her towel and let it fall on the floor – now they were both naked, looking silently at each other._ _

__Seeing each other, in the light of day. Being together._ _

__In the light of day._ _

__He raised his hand – caressed her face – a short, sweet gesture, then put his hands on her shoulders._ _

__\- Let’s do this right, he said._ _

__

__

__(The End!)_ _


End file.
